


Things We Think We Know

by MalecCrazedAuthor



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Episode: s02e07 How Are Thou Fallen, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 09:52:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10637427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalecCrazedAuthor/pseuds/MalecCrazedAuthor
Summary: Magnus thinks he knows three things going into this first time with Alec.Only one of them turns out to be true.You know in ep 1x10 when This World Inverted Magnus says "My magic's gone dormant?" That's pretty much what I'm dealing with trying to write smut for the past couple years. I'm just trying to flex that muscle a bit.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Still don't have a SH beta reader, so this is unbetaed.

The moment Alec gets Magnus past the threshold of his bedroom, Magnus thinks he knows three facts:

One: Sex is going to happen tonight. Yes, he’d had a couple minor reservations for half a second, but now, far more compellingly, he has _Alec_. Eager. Wanting him. Kissing him like Magnus’s lips are oxygen and he’s gasping for air. It would take a far, far stronger warlock than Magnus Bane to turn down such an offer.

Two: he needs to slow Alec way down.

Because three: The only thing he wants more than Alexander Lightwood sprawled naked across his sheets is to make this the most amazing night of Alec’s life. And right now Alec is charging at this whole sex issue like it’s a practice dummy he’s determined to pummel into sawdust. Magnus has no objection whatsoever to fast and desperate sex, but right now he isn’t even sure Alec is really all that turned on. Alec’s just pushing ahead, fueled by his resolve to make this happen so that it stops being a Thing he needs to worry and wonder about.

Magnus has avoided virginal partners, with very few exceptions. But even he knows first times are notoriously awkward, and he doesn’t want that for Alec. Unfortunately, his centuries of experience have little to offer him by way of guidance here.

He’s spent a lot of time since their date at the Hunter’s Moon trying to put himself in Alec’s shoes. Alec’s certainly arriving at the sexual banquet long after his peers, a fact that makes Magnus both sad and proud on his behalf. Sad, because Alec spent so many important years isolated and certain that he could never find someone he’d want to take this step with, and proud because at least he knew himself well enough to not to succumb to expectations and endure the disappointment of trying to be someone he wasn’t with someone he knew he didn’t want.

After all that loneliness and waiting, Alec’s decided Magnus is the person he wants to go there with, and that is _incredibly_ humbling. Magnus has known too many shadowhunters to buy into the common downworld misperception that they’re a cold lot. Despite the Clave’s stiff-necked rigidity, the passions of the nephilim burn fiercely. Magnus has just never been the focal point of those passions before.

He also knows that somewhere deep inside, there’s likely a small part of Alec that--in this moment, at least--doesn’t actually care _who_ he’s with. That piece simply belongs to a young man in his sexual prime who is _at long last_ facing the prospect of getting laid.

It’s a precarious combination, such eagerness coupled with such emotional openness. Magnus probably needs to be delicate in any attempt he makes to guide things. As vulnerable as Alec has made himself asking for this, it would be easy for him to hear any request to change his approach as “you’re doing it badly.”

He should know by now, though that Alec will always end up surprising him. After the first frenzy of kissing, once he and Magnus have made it as far as lying together clothed on Magnus’s bed, Alec slows himself down.

“Show me what you like,” he entreats, his eyes wide and dark. Nervous, but resolved. Utterly open, trepidation and desire both unmasked. This here is the reason Alec is so standoffish with most people. Once someone gets close, he lays himself totally bare to them. He offers everything, and expects so very little in return.

Alec’s hand cups the back of Magnus’s neck just below the nape, his bowstring-calloused fingertips dipping below his collar. Magnus can’t help but close in for another long kiss, because Alec’s just too beautiful and he’s _here_ , full of need and wonder.

“I’d rather know what you like,” Magnus says, keeping his voice low and gentle when they finally draw apart again.

Alec scoffs, his chagrined expression more frustrated than embarrassed. “How should I know?”

“Well, the fun will be in figuring it out.” Magnus indulges a fixation that has been plaguing him since the first moment he saw Alexander. He licks that bold, dark Deflect rune on his neck. Alec shudders and melts, his hands clenching where they grip Magnus, urging him to nibble the trail his tongue had just blazed.

“ _Ah_! Okay! I can get on board with that plan,” he says breathlessly.

“Good.” They don’t speak for a while then. Making out is still new enough that they can indulge in it for hours--when they’re not being interrupted, of course--and it’s become familiar ground, something Alec can relax into and find his footing.

They wrap around each other, face-to-face on their sides, legs intertwined. Kisses get deeper and harder, and hands move with increasing restlessness. Magnus finds the hem of Alec’s shirt, tugging tentatively enough to make it clear he’s requesting, not demanding.

For good measure, he asks, “May I?”

Alec nods, swallowing hard, and Magnus can practically hear the mantra of “ _I’m really doing this. This is actually happening,_ ” running through his brain.

Probably punctuated with a firm, “ _Finally!_ ”

Magnus slides his hands under Alec’s shirt, working up his rippling skin as far as possible before everything gets tangled up because Alec is still lying down. He refuses to let that deter him, dragging blunted fingertips over the flesh he’s revealed, testing Alec’s responses, seeking the dividing line between a sensitive shiver and a ticklish twitch. The threshold for the latter is delightfully low, something that promises fun at a later date. Right now, though, he’s more interested in the sharp breath Alec sucks in when Magnus’s thumb brushes his nipple.

“Oh, God,” Alec whispers, going boneless for an instant. Then he wrenches himself away to complete the task Magnus left half-finished, jerking his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. When he lays down again, it’s on his back, his bare chest offered up to Magnus’s eyes and hands and lips.

Lying there, he’s doubled-down on his own vulnerability. The awareness of it is plain on his face. Nervousness and doubt creeps back into his eyes as they flick between Magnus and the ceiling as if he can’t decide whether it’s more reassuring to hold eye contact or avoid it.

This is why Alec tends to seize the initiative with both hands once he decides to do something, Magnus thinks. He feels more secure that way.

Yet here he is, laid out like a sacrifice on the altar.

Forget humbling. This is awe-inspiring.

Magnus rolls up onto his hands and knees, climbing over Alec’s supine body to straddle one of his thighs. He kisses his way up a delicious expanse of runes and hair and warm flesh. His eyes hold Alec’s, who struggles to keep his lids from slamming shut as though concerned he might miss something. He loses the battle when Magnus’s tongue strokes over his nipple, groaning once as his entire body undulates, and then again when the motion pushes the hard bulge in his jeans against Magnus’s thigh.

Alec’s hands clamp on Magnus’s shoulders, pushing him back. He sweeps his tongue across his lips, his voice low and raspy. “Not to be crude or rush things, but finesse is probably a little wasted on me right now. You know. If you were wondering.”

“Is that so?” Magnus asks with a teasing smile. Inwardly, he’s thrilled. This wry, slightly dorky side of Alec is something he’s only let Magnus see in the last couple of weeks. Magnus interprets that as yet another sign of Alec’s walls coming down. He’s comfortable enough here, tonight, to let it shine through, and that is a very good thing.

The color on Alec’s cheeks heightens, but he nods emphatically. “Not that I’m an expert or anything, but I’m pretty certain the pants should at least be off before I lose it completely.”

“Really?” Magnus deliberately hikes his knee up higher into the juncture of Alec’s thighs, pressing firmly enough to make him shudder. Alec’s hands clench so hard that Magnus might just have bruises on his shoulders. He watches the effort it takes for Alec to drag himself back from the brink. “Alexander, what’s the worst thing that could possibly happen if you just let go and came in your pants, right here and right now?”

He punctuates the question with another gentle push of his knee, and Alec grunts. “Besides abject humiliation?” he asks tightly.

Even now, Alec is so focused on doing it _right_ , on being _perfect_. Following rules and meeting expectations. It makes Magnus’s heart ache.

“Not allowed here,” Magnus declares with a decisive shake of his head. “In this bed, shame doesn’t exist. The only _right_ is whatever feels right in the moment, and the only _rule_ is that no one does what they don’t want to do. If you’re that close, go with it. Besides,” he lowers his head, dipping his tongue into the notch at the base of Alec’s throat before nibbling all the way up to his ear. “Who says I won’t be flattered?”

Alec makes a noise, an indescribable sound full of urgency and surrender. His hands close on Magnus’s hips, jerking him down into full body contact, head to toe. As Magnus begins to feast on the side of his neck, sucking hard enough that Alec is sure to bear love-bites tomorrow, Alec’s thighs clamp on the one Magnus has between them and he pushes his pelvis up. Tentatively at first, and then with purpose.

Magnus echoes Alec’s low, needy groan, because this is _hot_. The thin thread that tethers Alec to self-restraint snaps and he thrusts against Magnus’s thigh, without shame or self-consciousness, and it’s _glorious_. Magnus isn’t getting the full effect of that grinding, so he can enjoy Alec’s responses. He nibbles the warm, fragrant skin of Alec’s neck, reveling at the openness with which Alec gives himself over to passion.

Then one of Alec’s hands sweeps up Magnus’s back, into his hair, and he pulls Magnus’s mouth off his neck and up to his for a kiss full of tongue and teeth and gasping breaths. Whether by chance or choice, the thigh Magnus is straddling hitches up until it’s snug against Magnus’s balls. Between that and the sharp, barking cry Alec releases into their kiss, Magnus is on the brink himself before Alec’s writhing and shuddering has even subsided. He doesn’t remember the last time an orgasm came out of nowhere like this, or took him so completely by surprise. But suddenly he’s _there_.

In the aftermath, he sinks down upon Alec and tucks his face in the curve of Alec’s neck. Trying to catch his breath. Waiting to see what form the fallout will take. No regrets, surely. Alec doesn’t seem to look back once he makes a choice. But he might very well need to gently hand-hold Alec through some shyness, and Magnus should probably--

\-- _study the ceiling_?

Alec has reversed their positions before Magnus even knows he intends to move, and then he’s _all over_ Magnus. Lips and hands and moist, gusting breaths on every bit of skin Alec can reach plus some that he’s just _really determined_ to get to.

Okay then. Alec has apparently decided to forego any awkwardness. He has the bit firmly in his teeth and is clearly just getting started. He strips Magnus of his shirt with more economy of movement than someone with so little experience should be able to manage, and then works at Magnus’s fly with single-minded focus.

 _This_ is a flavor of fast and desperate that Magnus is more than happy to accommodate. Alec is no longer blustering blindly forward, propelled by determination alone. Magnus shifts, allowing Alec to drag his sticky trousers down and toss them away.

Alec’s only response to discovering that Magnus is wearing nothing under those trousers is a thoroughly gratifying moan, and then he’s lying above Magnus again, kissing him as his hands skim along Magnus’s bare arms and ribs. His kiss isn’t the slightest bit tentative, but his touch is. Not with fear or hesitation, but rather indecision. As though Alec just isn’t sure where he should start touching.

Needing to feel him flesh-to-flesh, Magnus reaches for Alec’s belt. Alec rears back to give him the access he needs to get Alec’s fly open and thrust his hand inside. The angle is difficult, and the fit is tight and clammy with Alec’s spend, but Magnus doesn’t care, because Alec is still half-hard and his face when Magnus’s hand closes around him is just…just...

 _Transported. Rapturous. Divine_.

It’s one thing to know Alec has the blood of angels. It’s another to see that grace in his face. His thick lashes sweep those sky-high cheekbones as he closes his eyes and gives himself over to the touch of another for the first time. Above Magnus, he’s gone still, his mouth open, gasping. Artless and responsive. Magnus’s hand curls and twists and Alec’s spine bows, his head falling back, hips unconsciously pushing forward. His abandon is so sweetly intent that for a moment, Magnus thinks he’d be satisfied to lie there and stroke Alec until his wrist cramps.

But no. He can offer Alec so much more.

Alec groans when he withdraws his hand. He pushes himself up until he’s sitting with Alec straddling his lap and shoves both hands down the back of Alec’s jeans to working them down, kneading and groping a pleasingly taut backside as he goes. He rubs his face over a furred and flushed chest, kissing and tonguing, breathing in the scent of him until his lips come to rest over the place where Alec’s heartbeat hammers heavily under his sternum.

“Okay?” he asks, peering up to meet lust-drunk eyes.

“ _God_ , yes,” Alec gasps, eyes huge and dark, face flushed. This position has him towering above Magnus even more than usual, but it puts so many delightful parts within reach that it’s no hardship. Magnus kneads his ass again, and Alec grinds against him, swooping down for another breathless kiss.

Alec’s pants would come off a lot easier if Magnus could stop touching and kissing him long enough to finish the task, but that is apparently beyond him. It’s Alec who finally jerks away long enough to finish stripping, flipping onto his back to shimmy his jeans off.

Magnus seizes the opportunity to lean over and lavish more attention on his chest. When his tongue finds Alec’s nipple, Alec melts into the crimson satin duvet, his jeans sliding to the floor from a slack hand.

His chest is warm and salty with sweat, and his nipples so damned sensitive that Magnus could spend all night on them. But Alec’s erection is full again, pressing against Magnus as though begging for attention, and Magnus is overwhelmed with the need to _taste_. He wants to absorb every scent into his very pores, wants to touch and rub himself on Alec until the feel of Alec is imprinted on every nerve ending.

He compromises by kissing his way down that broad, soft trail of hair, caressing it with his lips and breath, until Alec’s cock bumps his chin. Alec’s breath catches, his fists clench in anticipation, until Magnus takes him in his mouth.

Any intention Magnus might have had of making Alec’s first blowjob the most amazing one he’s ever given flies out the window the moment his lips close around Alec’s dick. The salty, slightly bitter residue of cum coats Alec’s flesh, flooding Magnus’s mouth with flavor. His scent surrounds Magnus, intoxicating as a cloud of opium smoke. His thighs quiver under Magnus’s hands, and from there, it becomes a purely _selfish_ blowjob.

It becomes about indulging his senses, filling them with Alec’s every essence. It becomes about his own desire to hear Alec’s moans and cries, to make them louder and more desperate. When Magnus grabs Alec’s hands and places them on his head, it’s because he wants to feel what Alec will do with that permission.

Alec’s hands tighten on Magnus’s head, but he doesn’t push very hard. He grips more to brace himself and to maintain contact than to force. When his hips move it’s because he can’t resist the urge to thrust any longer.

He doesn’t try to steer or control, even though Magnus wouldn’t have minded if he had. Alec’s trembling hands sink into Magnus’s hair, the tension in his body ratcheting up with every bob of Magnus’s head.

“Oh, God,” Alec pants, writhing. “Ma--Mag-- _Magnus_!”

Magnus grabs Alec’s wrists to keep him from trying to pull him away and sucks harder, drinking in Alec’s strangled shout with the same relish as he does Alec’s semen. Alec twitches and bucks underneath him, and then subsides into trembling, gasping stillness.

 _Perfect_. Magnus releases his cock gently and kisses the deep crease above Alec’s hip. He’s sweaty and relaxed, _replete_ , and Magnus needs to kiss him again more than he’s ever needed anything in his long, long life.

Alec’s kiss is sweet and tired, but his hand finds Magnus’s dick with a determined grasp as Magnus hovers over his. His eyes sweep open to study Magnus’s face as Alec gives him an experimental stroke.

Magnus moans softly. “That feels wonderful.”

“I want to see you come,” Alec says artlessly. “Okay?”

“Absolutely.” He pushes himself up so that he straddles Alec’s waist, and _oh_ seeing Alec stretched out underneath him is a beautiful sight. Someday he wants to ride Alec and watch him come apart between Magnus’s thighs, but not tonight. Tonight he wants exactly what Alec has asked for, with Alec’s hand on his cock, learning him by feel, watching his responses.

He gives Alec everything he’s seeking, thrusts into his calloused grip. He makes no attempt to muffle his sounds or put a pretty face on his strain as he strives for his second climax. It takes a while, a long, delicious while in which Alec experiments. Short strokes, long strokes, fast, slow, firm, gentle.

For a time Magnus wraps his hand around Alec’s and guides him. “There. Like that. Oh, Alexander, yes, that’s marvellous…” And then words fail him, replaced by gasps and moans, until his release mingles with the hair and sweat on Alec’s rippling belly.

Alec makes a satisfied sound when it hits his skin.

“I liked that,” he says, swirling his fingers through it. Bringing him to his mouth to sample with no shame whatsoever.

Magnus files that bit of fascination away for a later day, sliding off to the side to stretch out next to Alec as he catches his breath. “Which part,” he asks, unable to resist a smug smirk.

Alec mirrors it as he turns his head. “ _Every_ part,” he says with an intense sort of emphasis, rolling to kiss Magnus. They lose themselves again in just making out, coming down, savoring each other.

 _This_ , Magnus realizes, sighing into Alec’s mouth. This is what has made the night amazing. Not just for Alec, but for them both. Not skilled and carefully orchestrated seduction he’d originally aimed for, but instead, approaching the whole thing with the same unstudied earnestness that Alec himself brought to Magnus’s door. Just...following their impulses.

Magnus can’t remember the last time it’s been this way. The last time it’s been so completely simple.

He can’t help but laugh at himself for ever believing it should be otherwise.

Alec’s eyes pop open at Magnus’s soft chuckle and he draws back. “What’s so funny?” he demands, though thankfully the suspicion in his voice is more teasing than self-conscious. He doesn’t think Magnus is laughing at _him_.

Magnus shakes his head. “It just occurs to me that I may have started out tonight overthinking this whole thing.”

“Overthinking? Really?” Alec’s lips twitch. “I’ve, uh, I’ve heard that can cause problems sometimes.”

“Sometimes. Any regrets?” Magnus asks carefully, even though he’s _almost_ certain he knows what the answer will be.

“Not a single one,” Alec says, and that intense emphasis is back, complete with unflinching eye-contact. Words freeze in Magnus’s throat at his quiet certainty.

And then Alec’s phone buzzes.

Alec groans. “Izzy wouldn’t dare call me tonight, so that has to be Jace.”

“If I refrain from dropping him off my balcony, it’s only out of consideration for your feelings,” Magnus mutters.

“I’m tempted to give you the go-ahead.” The phone buzzes again and Alec curses softly. “If he’s calling me instead of getting laid, something must be going on. If it’s anything less than the angel Raziel himself appearing in Central Park, I’ll make him suffer.”

Resigning himself to the idea that Alec might need to leave soon, Magnus sinks into the pillows and appreciates the site as Alec rolls out of bed without any shyness about his nudity. He digs through his pockets for his phone.

The tension that snaps through Alec the moment Jace begins speaking spells doom for any plans Magnus might have had for a long, sleepy night savoring the afterglow. Not to mention discussing what impact this new development might have on their burgeoning relationship.

“ _What_?” Alec practically yelps. “You’re serious?...Yeah...okay...Uh huh...Meet me at Magnus’s and fill me in.”

Alec’s is a little pale when he drops his phone into his lap. Magnus quashes his dismay and finds a smile.

“I take it Raziel has appeared after all?”

“Close.” Alec blinks slowly. Once. Twice. Then he sucks in a long breath. The look he turns on Magnus is one of absolute astonishment. “Ithuriel.”

Magnus bites his tongue against the urge to ask any number of incredulous and ultimately idiotic questions. Leave it to Jace Wayland to stumble across an actual angel to disrupt their evening with.

However, disappointment aside...

The affairs of angels have nothing to do with warlocks, but Magnus has to admit, he can’t wait to find out what this is all about.

“Well, then,” he says with a wry smile. “I suppose we should find our clothes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at [maleccrazedauthor.tumblr.com](http://maleccrazedauthor.tumblr.com).


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